Spellbound

does this poem count as a love spell?

Photo by Gabriel Kraus on Unsplash

I was the one you prayed for,
each night you clutched your fists tightly to your chest,
when you wondered if the love you wanted would ever come.
I am the one you dream of,
through frost and dawn.
I am the face
you cannot erase,
the voice you cannot silence,
the one who owes you no malice.

I am there through your days,
the rhyme in your chaos,
sitting gently on your shoulder.
I am under your skin,
in your blood.

I will be there
even when the echoes of old loves and life
seem so alluring
the whispers of empty words and promises,
etched in fear and pain.

I am the wind in your sails,
the whispers in the dead of night,
the face you see in others,
the one that leaves you spellbound,
even from afar,
even in the arms of another.

You need not fight it.
I am the one you prayed for,
each night, with clenched fists,
swinging in the air as if to curse your god.
Harken these words.
Let go gently.